Nanoing

The title makes it look like I've misspelled canoeing, but what I really meant to say was nano-ing.
November the first marks the first day of my very first nanowrimo! (well, I did attempt the camp, but failed miserably at a total word count of about 2,700) It's a writing "competition" where one misfit attempts to write 50, 000 words of a brand new novel between November 1st - November 30th.
So between exams, assignments and this disgusting new cold I've just procured for myself - seemed like a fantastic idea!
I've actually been looking forward to this for months. I've hit a block. It's why I haven't blogged in months. That, and the fact that I'm incessantly lazy, use words I don't understand (like incessantly) and nobody reads anyway.
There. Little miserable rant out there. GAAHAHHRHAGHRGHRGA. The whole point of the month, I think, is just to get out and write, regardless of how suckish your prose ends up being. Quantity over quality (wow, now that's a new spin on it).
So. I has 102 words so far. What are they about? Oh, I'm so glad you asked!
....well. A bench, a lake and a pine-wall.
The website is loading really, really slowly so now I've decided to take out all my angst on me innocent blog.
Not being the most competitive of people, it's nice to actually have a motivating goal in mind. I DO want to win! It'll be nice. Just like jam doughnuts with tea and and coffee and cake.
[I forgot what I was going to say...]

Well. Anyway. Hmmmprh. Hummmm. This isn't much of a post at all, but meh. One of the recurring ideas I keep reading on the nanowrimo forums is "There is no backspace key."
Thus, I'd better stick tape over it and jam it with sticky jam.

Thank you for listening. Students, please listen to your teachers.
And yes, year elevens. You WILL be stacking the chairs after assembly. There, there.


*1:07pm: Hurray! Yay! Banay! At 1,692 words, I've met my daily word quota!
You can track that little blue bar here: http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/oblongmcwicket
and if anyone else is participating, let me know! I'm so lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely without writing buddies.
and here is the least offensive (literarirly speaking) excerpt I can find from today:

These four ladies and gentlemen call themselves Tara, Jason, Oscar and Abigail. Together they have three recurring names of endearment for me: Ivy, Ives and Ive-dawg. Because we all enjoy being associated with climbing bean-like vines and the hives and nothing is cooler than tacking gangster sounding suffixes to everything and anything. Look-shizzle, shawty, I got me a fine dog, dawg.

“Flip, that’s not soup again, is it?” asks Jason incredulously, taking the soup from me and sloshing it around and sniffing it to make sure it really is soup. He says “flip” a lot. I don’t understand. If I flipped his sentence, it would say: “?ti si, niaga puos ton s’taht, pilF.” While I’m trying to figure out how to say this aloud, I grab my soup back and take a larger than necessary gulp.

Now... for this chemistry assignment. And the exam study. *hhhhhhhhhhhppppppmmmmahh*

All Things Bright and Beautiful

After a million anxiously waiting days, trials and tribulations, school examinations, wasting lethargic hours, living life in the beautiful green, breaking lots of stuff, losing and meeting, dancing round France, and baking in Australia; after imploding a shopping complex for the demolition of my trusty CD store, and being temporarily bested by that sneaky Puyehue-Cordon Caulle volcano...I finally have my very own copy of All Things Bright and Beautiful. And, my goodness, I was rendered speechless at first. When you get that incredibly peaceful feeling when you hold everything you could possibly want, and somewhere skyway, is the universal salvation to anything you could possibly live for, and, any torturous maths assignments aside, the moment is whole and perfect.

http://my-name-is-kirk.deviantart.com/

The most heartfelt thank you, Adam. For shining through with the most beautiful, thoughtful, uplifting and deeply inspiring melody and imagination anyone ever brought life. All Things Bright and Beautiful is everything we ever could have hoped for, and much, much more.

What makes you happy?

That is exactly what I intend to bust my ramblings about.

COFFEE "Humans are afraid of the dark and yet...at the same time we're fascinated and bewitched by it. Maybe that's why humans drink the darkness that is coffee." -Godot.
AaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAaaaaahh, there is nothing in the world like it. What is it about coffee that makes you feel like you can take on the world? ...After you pay the bathroom a visit or five, of course. Just remember, coffee belongs in mugs. The day I take over Starbucks will be the day take-away coffee comes in a spill-proof mug. It just doesn't taste the same in those spongy foam things, and they bust way too easily. How many of you have accidentally squeezed the cups a bit and then -pppppptt!- you're suffering first degree burns to the arms and end up looking like you've been weeping soil.
And Look out for the people with funny chips on their teeth. We're the ones who end up gnawing our mugs to death whilst the second kettle of water is boiling.
Coffee has no equal. Even just the smell from fifteen metres away gives you those hyperactive tingles that run all the way down your body and make you do the worm...standing up.
Raise your mugs! One! Two! Thr- *SLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP!*

The Napkin Fleet

I really should stop posting my literature assignments on here, but... I found somewhere that "the worst thing you write is better than the best thing you don't write." Assuming we're not talking about random lousy gossip about pig's foot syndrome, I guess we can be willing to spin with it. After all, "the world, you see, keeps turning, and we must turn with it." Again, assuming we aren't including spineless conformation here, we can go along with that as well. So. I wrote something.
Anyway, I'm not so happy with it. But feedback would be nice.

Kleptomania is an irresistible urge to steal items of trivial value. People with this disorder are compelled to steal things, generally, but not limited to, objects of little or no significant value, such as pens, paper clips, paper and tape. Some kleptomaniacs may not even be aware that they have committed the theft.

Two years ago my sister Ema crossed a road and never made it to the other side. All I remember was golden hair and blue dress flying across the street like a marionette, the screeching of tyres and cars honking maniacally. Next came the screaming, which became wailing which, later on, slowly merged into some sick form of internal cavity. Then, one day, with the gradual fluttering open of the largest pair of coffee-coloured eyes, the world unfroze and started moving again. Just like that.

Ema was almost the same Ema she was before the accident. She still smiled the same way; even more often than before. In fact, she hardly ever stopped smiling, and she became a lot more musical too. She made up rhymes and tunes to express herself when she was upset or frustrated.

Of course, we were told, slight personality changes were to be expected. Ema was considered extremely lucky to have recovered at all after the degree of traumatic head injury she had incurred. The only thing that really gave her away was this new habit she had developed: stealing.

Ema wasn’t a bad person. It was compulsive. Half the time she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Limericks

There once was a girl who could mime
But, oh!, she could not earn a dime
So she finally quit sobbin'
and like Batman and Robin,
she kicked ass while fighting all crime

There was this sick villain who thought
he could eat all the children he taught
But Supergirl swooped in
Put Cannibal the bin
Students cheered, but work they did naught

When it comes to the athletic cup
Supergirl had no talent there, nup
Basketball courts made her wheezy
Sports ovals left her sneezy
So she went and blew them all up

Supergirl fell in love with this guy
who turned out to be a bit sly
But stealing his best shoes
went against her values
so she returned them...with a fistful of pie

When Supergirl finally found the right one
She married and had kids by the tonne
The super-babies kept crying,
shape-shifting and flying
She loved them but didn't have much fun.

I have a bleak future as a limerickist. I just like the word.

Spring Cleaning

You'd think that being the child of a dad who throws nothing out and a mum who throws everything out, I would've inherited some nice, neutral balance of the spring-cleaning gene.

Of course not...

"Keep it!" Whispers the treasure-hoarder. "You never know when you might need those baby...teeth."

"Begone! Burn it all! One T-shirt could easily get you through the week anyway!" Shrieks my rutheless side.

You see the dilemma. There is no winning against the violent internal struggle that arises over whether or not to evict that squashed Fanta can. This is why my room always ends up looking like an asteroid collision. (The picture's not really my room. The real deal is much, much worse. I've decided to spare my family any photographic evidence in case they experience trauma from having to live under the same roof).

I guess I could try sticking everything in its place with super glue (which would also come in really handy during an earthquake) but that'd make getting the clothes off the hangers somewhat complicated.

What I need... is THIS!      

This super cool automatic-cleaning bike machine cool thing. Complete with a LIGHT BULB!

***

Heh. When viewed on an anticlockwise rotation, it looks like some kind of projector:

...Fancy that.

Blogging oblivion

I have been sitting in the deserts of Blogging Oblivion.

Just like this guy here, only I'm not a man and wouldn't have the guts to sit in the piping hot desert wearing a tux. Brave soul. How philisophical one must be in order to take photos of themselves in the thinking pose of all thinking poses. Probably pondering whether he could sell that chair on eBay for a bottle of water.
Anyway, you can only sit in the desert of blogging oblivion for so long before your butt starts to stick to the chair and you start to sweat so much that you eventually become an entire drowning ocean of imploded perspiration.
It's not a feeling one wants to experience.

Well, what I wanted to say was that I'm back.
Hi.

Greetings from your uninspired sensei

Today I sat on a blue spinny chair in deep meditation for a long time hoping to begin the carousel like a firework show but my ideas were blander than baby formula. Guess that's what happens when the sky looks like a giant grey sheep.

I'm Harris. My name is not Beyonce. I'm not so tall, but in compensation I DO own a very sweet rubber bracelet shaped like a hippopotamus. I like coffee, owls, the sky and stars, instant noodles, reading and my nintendo DS. I'm a writer. No, I don't have any qualifications.

I hope you had a gleeful new year.
Can you believe it's 2011 already? I used to love the number eleven until the september I was in year six and did not receive my Hogwarts acceptance letter...in which followed several years of bitter mourning.
ANYWAY, like ten billion other people (ignoring for now the fact that there are apparently only six billion people on the planet) I find myself in that shocked bucket of thought, trying to desparately grasp the concept that it will never, ever be the year twenty ten ever again. Ever. It's almost sad; though I'm yayed at the thought of a fresh start! It smells good; like blank notebooks ready to be turned into skilful origami. Though I really have to stop writing '2010' whenever I date things.

This time, rather than make a bunch of new years' resolutions I'm bound not to keep, I've decided to create a to-do list. Beware foul monsters of boredom. You shall not pass this year!
Things to do before the deadly deadline of 11:59:59pm December 31st 2011:

December 31st

And it's that time of the year ago. And time to say goodbye to the irrelevant.
Next year I'll be busting my ramblings at http://www.thecoffeecarousel.blogspot.com/
Though this time around, I plan to be a blogger. One that actually blogs, and the new blog should be permanent and not an annual thing. So. Wish me luck?

On the WING

THE ADVENTURE BEGINS NOW (CLICK)